


Consequences

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-12-26
Updated: 2002-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-01 04:45:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/352067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is about Clark dealing with consequences.  Martha is in a coma and<br/>may die.  Clark blames himself.  And the Luthors are the ones who help<br/>Clark to deal.  Each in their own way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Consequences

## Consequences

by Shelly

[]()

* * *

This is about Clark dealing with consequences. Martha is in a coma and may die. Clark blames himself. And the Luthors are the ones who help Clark to deal. Each in their own way. R rating. Angst and more angst. I don't get enough Lionel and Clark scenes so I'm making my own! LOL 

* * *

Jonathan stared at his wife's still form. Three weeks had passed since she had fallen into a coma. Three weeks of praying for her to open her eyes. Not a flutter or a twitch. But Jonathan wasn't ready to give up hope. He prayed for his son too. Clark blamed himself for his mother's injury. Jonathan knew better. But nothing he said to Clark penetrated the guilt or the denial. Heaving a sigh and running a hand over his face, Jonathan leaned back in his chair and let himself remember. 

Martha and Clark had been in town shopping for Jonathan's birthday. They had just exited a store when someone screamed. Clark saw a commotion at the Smallville bank and used his Xray vision. The bank was being robbed and someone was about to be shot. Clark had gone to the rescue. Chaos erupted. In the end Clark stopped the shooting, but one of the robbers ran off. Clark went in pursuit and then it happened. The getaway car took off, swerving to miss an oncoming car and heading straight for Martha. Clark could save her using his superspeed but he had hesitated when Martha screamed out "No Clark!" One second of time ticked by and it was too late. The car hit Martha and she lay on the sidewalk in a crumpled heap. Surgery saved her body, but the trauma had sent her into a coma. 

Jonathan knew the events thanks to second hand storytelling. Clark's version. Ethan's version from witnesses and Old Mister Perry's version from the bakery across the street where he had seen everything. No one blamed Clark for the accident. No one but Clark. Jonathan rubbed his face again. His son was shattering from the inside out and there was nothing he could do. 

"Mr. Kent?" 

"Lex?" Jonathan jumped up at the sound of the voice and turned to see Lex Luthor and his father, Lionel, standing in the doorway. They had come to visit twice a week since the accident. Jonathan was grateful to them for the monetary assistance. Lionel Luthor had called in the best doctors and had taken care of Martha's room and bills. At some point Jonathan knew his pride would get the better of him over it, but not right now. Now all he cared about was Martha getting better. "Lionel." Jonathan added in greeting. 

Lex smiled gently. "Any changes?" he asked. 

Jonathan shook his head. "None." 

"She's still holding her own," Lionel stated, considering that to be a good thing. 

"She's a fighter," Jonathan said softly. He looked over to his wife then back to Lex. "Can I talk to you?" he asked. 

Lex nodded. "Privately?" He wondered if he had done something to offend Jonathan Kent yet again and didn't really want his father to hear about it if that were the case. 

Jonathan pointed to the corner of the room. "It's not really private," he said firmly. "Actually...I have a favor to ask you." 

"Anything," Lex offered freely. 

"It's about Clark." Jonathan felt the burn of unshed tears as he said his son's name. Clark was in such pain and there was nothing Jonathan could do to help him. It was a hard reality to face. Jonathan knew he should have done something sooner, but his stubborness was hard swayed. 

Lex frowned. He hadn't seen Clark for more than a moment or two since the accident. He had called and tried to visit but Clark was always busy in some way. "What about Clark?" Lex prompted. He would do anything to help his young friend through this hard time. 

Jonathan sighed, his inner voice taunting him. He didn't want to do this but it was for Clark's sake. Clearing his throat, Jonathan blurted out, "Clark is falling apart. He blames himself for what happened." 

"That's crazy," Lex shot back. 

"That's Clark," Jonathan replied. "He feels like it's his responsibility to save the world." 

Lex almost smiled. "Yeah...I've noticed that about him. And a part of me is grateful for that complex. He has saved alot of people." 

Jonathan nodded. "He has, and I'm very proud of him. But Clark is the one who needs saving right now. He's taking on too much and not letting himself...feel." 

"What do you mean?" Lex asked. 

"He's running the farm for me," Jonathan replied. "He does all the chores. Everything, night and day. He keeps the house clean, does the laundry and the cooking." 

Lex was suprised. "Clark cooks?" he interjected, then realized that sounded rude given the circumstances. 

Jonathan felt a small chuckle escape him and nodded. "Martha started teaching him how to cook when he was twelve. Simple meals, but he's pretty good. She wanted to make sure he could always look after himself. In case...something happened to us." Jonathan choked on a sob and turned away for a moment to compose himself. Turned back and continued. "Clark goes to school and his grades are exemplary. He comes here and sits with his mother until visiting hours are over then back to the farm to finish chores. He wants everything perfect for when Martha....for when his mom comes home. He doesn't want to fail her again." 

"He hasn't failed her now," Lex whispered softly. 

"I know that," Jonathan agreed. "Clark doesn't. He feels he has to be strong and perfect for me and his mother. He keeps smiling and telling me she'll be home soon. He won't let himself face the reality that she might never wake up. He just keeps in motion, day and night. He doesn't sleep or eat, other than what I make him eat when I come home for dinner. And he only eats then to please me. He's just going through the motions of living right now, Lex. He doesn't hear anything I say to him." 

Lex could feel Jonathan Kent's pain and he was at a loss at what to do to help. "What can I do for you?" he asked. 

Jonathan cleared his throat again. "Clark respects you, Lex. He listens to you. I may not share my son's sentiments about you, but he believes in you and values your friendship. So...I was hoping that you would talk to him. Do an intervention of sorts. Make him listen. Make him....stop...long enough to feel. To sleep. Something." Jonathan could hear the pleading note in his voice along with the rising hysteria and he stopped talking. He just looked at Lex and waited. 

"I'll do what I can," Lex promised. "I'll find Clark after I take my father home." 

Lionel had heard everything. He had made his way to Martha's bedside and found her hand. Rubbed it absently as he spoke. "You can call the limo for me, Lex. Go and find Clark." It was more an order than a request and they both knew it. 

Lex smirked even as he reached for his cell phone. "Fine, Dad. I'll see you later. Goodnight, Mr. Kent. I'll be in touch." 

"Thank you...Lex." It hurt to say it but for all that, Jonathan meant it. 

"Thank me later," Lex replied, then he was gone. 

* * *

When Lex arrived at the Kent farm, the first place he looked for Clark was in the boy's loft in the barn. To Lex's surprise, Clark wasn't there. His next stop was the house. The outside door was open and through the screen he could see Clark busy in the kitchen. It looked as if he were washing dishes. Grimacing, Lex rapped lightly on the door. "Mind if I come in?" he asked, when he saw Clark look his way. 

"Of course, Lex, come in," Clark said politely. He dried his hands on the dish towel hook to the cupboard then smoothed the wrinkles out of the material. Everything needed to be kept perfect for when his mother came home. "Did you need something?" Clark asked, as Lex entered the kitchen. 

"I need to talk to you," Lex replied. He took a moment to study Clark and saw the truth that Mr. Kent spoke of. The boy was shattering. It was visible in the way Clark moved. He had always had this lanky grace, but now there was a sense of vibration about him, as if his body couldn't be still even when it wasn't in motion. Lex noticed as well that Clark was markedly thinner, and the boy had been slim to begin with. His face was pale and there were shadows beneath the grape-green eyes. Even the smile that Clark forced into place seemed dim somehow. "I just came from the hospital," Lex stated. 

Clark winced then nodded, hoping Lex didn't notice his reaction. "Any change?" he asked. The same question he asked day in and day out. Always got the same answer, but Clark had to keep asking. 

Lex shook his head. "She's the same," he said gently. "I wish there was more that could be done to help her. You know I would do whatever it takes. Whatever the cost." 

"I know," Clark whispered, and his smile felt a bit more genuine. "Thank you, Lex. I never did tell you how much it means to me...and to my dad, everything you and your father have done for my mom. All the doctors and the private room. We can never repay you." 

"You don't have to," Lex shot back, taking a deliberate step closer to Clark, and he took note of how the boy took a step back. Lex understood. Clark didn't want anyone invading his personal space. Didn't want to let anyone close enough to get in. "You're father asked me to come here and talk to you, Clark," Lex said, deciding that honest just might be the best policy in this instance. 

Clark turned back to the sink, plunging his hands into the soapy water, searching for something to wash clean. There was nothing to find, but he let his hands linger. "I know my dad is worried about me," Clark replied. "He shouldn't be. I'm fine. Maybe you can tell him that for me. Maybe he'll believe you." 

Lex moved one step closer and watched Clark flinch. "He wouldn't believe me, Clark," Lex said firmly. "Because I don't believe it. You're anything but fine. Clark...what happened to your mother wasn't your fault. You saved lives at the bank. There was nothing you could do to save your mother." 

"You're wrong!" Clark hissed, then he closed his eyes and took a shuddery breath. He didn't mean to yell. "I'm sorry, Lex," he apologized. "I'm just a little tired. Sorry." 

"You need to stop pushing yourself so hard, Clark," Lex said softly. "And you need to get some sleep. Everything else can wait." 

Clark pulled his hands out of the water and dumped the dish water out. "It can't wait," he stated. "I have to take care of the farm for my parents. I have to make sure everything is perfect." 

Lex reached out and touched Clark on the shoulder. Felt the muscle bunch at his touch and pulled away. "Nothing is ever perfect, Clark. You're doomed to fail no matter what you do if perfection is your goal." 

"Thanks for coming by, Lex," Clark said, his tone clearly stating a dismissal. "I appreciate your concern but I'm fine. Okay? Now...I have alot of work to do before school." 

"You have to sleep," Lex said firmly, blocking Clark's escape. And when the boy made to move around him, Lex moved with him. "I'm not leaving, Clark," declared. He locked eyes with the boy and let determination shine through. 

Clark took a step back and hit the counter. He didn't have the energy to deal with this. With Lex. He knew that his friend meant well, but he couldn't understand. No one could. "I don't want to sleep," Clark whispered, and he heard the pleading in his voice. 

Lex suddenly understood. "Nightmares," he replied. "They can't hurt you, Clark." 

"Sometimes they can," Clark stated. Sometimes his entire life felt like a nightmare he couldn't wake up from. And that was the rub. Clark was afraid that he might wake up at some point only to realize that he hadn't really been asleep at all. That his nightmares were his reality. 

"I'll call Toby and he can give you something to help you sleep," Lex offered. Felt a twinge of guilt at offering drugs to a minor, even if they weren't illegal substances. 

Clark felt a smile quirk his lips and shook his head. "I can't sleep, Lex. Please just leave it at that." 

Lex swallowed a sigh of frustration. "I can't let it go, Clark. You're shattering right before my eyes. It's killing your father to see you like this." The moment the words were out Lex wished he could take them back. He flinched when Clark did, the boy reacting as if he had been kicked in the gut. "I'm sorry, Clark. I only meant...." 

"I know what you meant, Lex," Clark whispered. "I know my father is worried about me. I wish he wouldn't. I won't break. I can't." More than anything, Clark wished that he could. 

"What can I do to help you?" Lex asked, and he was beginning to feel desperate. He knew that he was failing Mr. Kent. Failing Clark. But he didn't know what to do. 

Clark rubbed a hand across his face and sagged against the counter, letting the weariness he felt wash over him. On some level he liked the feeling. It wasn't something he was used to. Clark could almost pretend that he was...normal. "You can help by letting me get back to my chores," Clark said firmly. "There's so much to do before mom comes home." 

Lex opened his mouth to make a rebuttal statement, but something about the look on Clark's face made him snap his lips closed. The boy was fighting a losing battle, but he wasn't going to give up and Lex sensed that if he pushed too hard then for Clark it would feel like yet another failure. "Okay..I'll go," Lex allowed. "But call me if you need me. Anytime, Clark. Day or night. All right?" 

"I will," Clark promised, even though they both knew he wouldn't call. "Drive careful, Lex," he called after his friend. And when Lex was gone Clark locked the kitchen door before heading into the laundry room to do another load. Curtains this time, because his mom did her spring cleaning this time of year and Clark wanted everything to be the way she liked. For when she came home. 

* * *

Lionel waited. He knew when Clark would arrive to make his delivery and he positioned himself by the kitchen door. When the boy entered, Lionel pounced, closing the door after him with a resounding bang. 

Clark jumped at the sound of the door closing and whirled around to find Lionel Luthor standing there, cane in hand, smiling at him. "Mr. Luthor," Clark said softly. "You startled me." 

"Sorry," Lionel said, although he wasn't. He wanted to shake the boy up a bit. "Put the box down on the counter," he ordered. "I want to have a word with you, young Mr. Kent." 

"What about?" Clark queried, even as he set the crate of produce down as ordered. He wondered if he had done something wrong. Something to displease Lionel Luthor. 

Lionel tapped his cane on the floor, finding his way to stand before Clark. The boy had a very viable presence. "I visited your mother earlier. No change in her condition." 

Clark winced and nodded, then remembered that Mr. Luthor couldn't see him. "I know," he said, hearing a sharpness in his tone. Didn't apologize for it though. Something about Lionel Luthor's attitude was setting Clark's hackles to rise, metaphorically speaking. "She'll be okay though," Clark continued. "She'll be home soon." 

"And what if she never comes home?" Lionel shot back, thumping his cane once on the floor and feeling that he made Clark jump. "Are you ready to deal with that reality, boy?" 

"I have to go," Clark said, spinning on his heel and heading for the door, only to find his way blocked by Lionel Luthor. Clark almost skidded to a halt then backpedalled. 

Lionel pressed forward, knowingly invading Clark's space, and keeping pace easily because the boy's boots clunked on the floor with each step of retreat. "No more running away, Mr. Kent!" Lionel snapped. "You're mother would be appalled at the way you've been handling her illness. She wouldn't want you to blame yourself and you know that." 

Clark gasped, feeling almost as if Lionel Luthor had whapped him upside the head with his cane. Or, rather, how he would feel getting hit had he been human. "I don't have to listen to this!" Clark hissed, sidestepping in an attempt to escape, only to have Lionel Luthor follow him, eerily matching his steps. If Clark didn't know better he would have sworn that in this moment, Lionel Luthor could see. All too clearly. 

"You will listen!" Lionel shot back. "I have great respect and admiration for your mother, Mr. Kent. And she spoke highly of you often. Her pride in you was unflinching. And I know, first hand, how courageous you are. I owe my life more than once, and I believe it's time to even the score." 

"What the hell does that mean?" Clark countered, feeling shaken to the core of his being. It surprised him on some level that his mother had praised him to Lionel Luthor, and that Mr. Luthor felt he owed Clark in some way. 

Lionel pressed his advantage, both physically and psychologically, pressing Clark back into the wall and leaning in to whisper, "I won't let you kill yourself, boy. Because that's what you're trying to do. Die a little each day. That way you won't have to face the reality that your mother may never wake up." 

Clark felt a tremor ripple through him. He was furious yet scared. Lionel Luthor was hitting too close to home. Too close to the truth. "She is coming home!" Clark shouted. "She has to come home. Dad...he needs her. I need her..." Clark broke off, choking on a sob. Felt the burn of hot tears in his eyes and brushed them away with the back of one hand . He would not cry. 

"In a perfect, fair, world you're mother would wake up and come home today," Lionel allowed. "But the world is far from perfect and life is seldom fair, Mr. Kent. Deal with it. Accept it. Better yet...embrace it and use it to make you stronger." 

"It...should be me..." Clark whispered, then he clapped a hand over his mouth. He had come so close to confessing the truth. To spilling his secret with a perfect stranger. Lionel Luthor was the last person on the earth that Clark would ever trust to keep his secret. Yet a part of him wanted to tell. Wanted Lionel Luthor to understand why it was his fault. 

Lionel heard Clark's words and heard the pain behind them. He smiled a little and leaned back, giving the boy a bit of space. "You can't save the world, boy. Most of the time the people you care about most are the ones you'll never be able to save. Get used to it." 

Clark felt a hot tear slide down his cheek and it startled him. Then another slid out and Clark blotted it with his shirt sleeve. But they wouldn't stop and it took all his energy to keep from sobbing out loud. Shaking his head, he crumpled to the floor, drawing his legs up to his chest and burying in face in his knees. 

"It will be all right, Clark," Lionel said softly, as he listened to the boy's ragged breathing. Knew that he had broken through but even as he reached out to touch Clark's shoulder, Lionel sensed a presence and turned to see Lex standing in the doorway. "I think he needs you now," Lionel said to his son. 

"I'll take care of him," Lex stated, moving forward to kneel beside Clark. He'd heard every word his father had said to the boy. Had almost made his presence known at one point, but now he was glad he hadn't. Wrapping his arms around Clark, Lex guided the boy to his feet. Scared him a bit how easily Clark let himself be guided from the room and up the stairs. Fifteen minutes later Lex was sitting in an overstuffed armchair, watching Clark sleep. For all his size, the boy looked small and fragile, curled up beneath the downy comforter. Not once had Clark made a sound. But his silent weeping now echoed in Lex's head, distracting him from his father's arrival. 

"He'll be okay," Lionel commented, staring sightlessly in Clark. "He's stronger than he knows." 

Lex bit his lip against a sharp retort and calmly managed to ask, "Stronger than me?" 

Lionel nodded. "In some ways, yes." 

"You almost broke him," Lex stated, his tone accusatory. 

"No," Lionel countered. "He let himself break." 

Lex sighed softly and ran a hand over his head. "You did what the rest of us couldn't. I should thank you for that." Should have but couldn't bring himself to do so. Not even for Clark's sake. 

Lionel chuckled. "I'm the only one he didn't have to be strong for," he said softly. "Clark couldn't let himself break in front of you or his father. Not even his friends. He has an emotional investment in all of you. He didn't want your sympathy and understanding. Didn't need it. What young Mr. Kent needed was a proverbial _Slap in the face_." 

"Which you were happy to deliver," Lex drawled. 

"Martha raised a good boy," Lionel replied, as if that explained everything. He turned towards the door but stopped by Lex's chair. "I spoke with Dr. Flanigan at the hospital. Martha opened her eyes five minutes ago. The first thing she said was...Clark. Tell him when he wakes up. His father knows he's here...and safe." That said, Lionel tapped his way to the door. 

Lex turned in the chair to watch his father go, then back to watching Clark sleep. "You've earned my father's respect, Clark," Lex whispered. "Beware the consequences." 

* * *

Lex stood at the window and watched Clark hugging his mother. She would have a long road to recovery, as would Clark. But they would come out of this stronger than ever. Admiration and envy warred within Lex as he turned from the window and walked away. 

**THE END**


End file.
